The Carnival
Dear apple of my eye, I’m a mess.
I should be labeled with warnings like,
EXTREMELY FRAGILE. HANDLE WITH CARE. HAZARDOUS CONTENTS.
So at least I told you now,
you’ll find out later.
I’ll put you through hell
just to see if you’ll stick around.
It’s because I’m used to people leaving,
once they get to know me a little better.
Am I afraid of myself?
How awful is that?
I’m a carnival like atmosphere.
A fine line between child-like bliss and fireworks,
and creepy, seedy, underbelly, I don’t feel good here.
(Sorry, I tried.
I thought the fried dough and cotton candy might make you happy.
That was a stupid idea.)
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again,
because you really need to see both sides of the picture.
My heart is ugly.
But it could be all yours.
